


You actually thought I was a teacher?

by Two_Sour_Noodles



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Babybones (Undertale), F/M, Fluff, High School, LMAO, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Racism, Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale), Swapfell Sans (Undertale), Swearing, baby's first fic (please be nice), boyos turned out to be more polite than intended, everyone is blushing, hot monsters in the area, monsterphobic, papyrus is a baby bone, reader is accidentally a strong character now lol, reader might be called teacher but she's not a teacher she's just a student, sans is a teen (so are you), teen!sans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2020-08-20 03:42:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20221225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Two_Sour_Noodles/pseuds/Two_Sour_Noodles
Summary: Despite you being a student, Sans mistakes you for a teacher, and you don’t realize he’s serious.





	1. New monster in the area.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Nairi here!!! This is my first fic, i'm kinda nervous, lmao, tell me what you think! and I hope you like it?
> 
> ok so i'm not american and my school system is kinda different, I'll just point some stuff out:
> 
> Elementary is 1-6 grade, middle school 7-9, high school 10-12.  
I'm still not sure if I'm gonna add this but our weekdays are from Sunday till Thursday.
> 
> Just to be clear, you're a tenth grade student, and Sans is an eleventh grade baby.

After 5 long years, monsters finally got granted full citizenship by the government, which also means they can get jobs and attend schools.

As part of the school discipline committee students, you feel a little responsible to make them feel welcomed into the school. While you don’t think you can help them gain a lot of friends, you hope that you could stop any harm done out of racism from happening to the monster students.

But it’s not as if this city has a lot of monsters to welcome in the first place.

A month and a half into the school year, you hear murmurs going around about Death visiting school. Curious, you ask a kid if they know what’s going on.

“Didn’t you know, teacher?” You roll your eyes at the nickname everyone insists on. You don’t even know why you got it, you’re just a normal student. “There’s apparently a new kid in second year, and it's a skeleton monster.”

You raise your eyebrows, “Really? There’s a monster in the area?” You ask, genuinely wondering.

“Still didn’t see it, so I wouldn’t know.” You twitch at the pronouns used for the monsters.

“When in doubt, use _they_.”

“What are you, Tumblr?” He says while laughing.

How far back can one roll their eyes?

“Cool, thanks, bye, later,” you quickly dismiss the kid in favour of actually seeing the monster. A skeleton, hm. Didn’t see one of those in the media-- The bell rings, canceling your thoughts and plans. With a sigh, you turn around to head to your class, 1-C.

Looks like you can only hope to see them at lunch today.

* * *

Lunch period starts, and you ask around for the whereabouts of the new student.

Surprisingly, you find them still sitting in their class instead of the cafeteria. Unsurprisingly, everyone is avoiding them.

They look like a short skeleton, with what seems to be red eye lights for eyes, wide eye sockets with what seems to be a scar running across their left, and sharp, _sharp _teeth, wearing a red bandanna, a black jumper with one big horizontal red stripe across the middle, dark jeans, and red sneakers. Everything looks sharp, ironed and sparkling clean, except for the tattered bandanna.

Bored and disconnected are the words you’d use to describe their expression.

As you enter the classroom, eyes on the skeleton, another student calls out to you, “Hey teacher, just ignore it, ‘kay? It didn’t bite anyone yet.” The few kids surrounding him snicker at that.

“Your name, please.” You demand, putting as much authority as you could in your voice.

The student nervously chuckles, “Huh?”

“Please give me your name so I can deliver it to the principal. You know we don’t allow harassment to other students.” While you didn’t let your gaze wander away from the kid, you could see the other students not-so-subtly inching away from the scene.

“I didn’t _harass _it-”

“Your _name_.”

“It’s not-”

“Do you prefer to waste your lunch period by going to the principal’s now?”

“... Greg.”

You raise your eyebrows.

He averts his eyes, “G-Greg Smith, 2-A.”

You relax a little. “Okay. If you don’t want me to give your name to the principal, please act towards this student with the respect they deserve.”

“... Okay,” He says with obvious relief, then scrambles away with his friends.

Releasing a breath, you turn back to the skeleton. With a little amusement, you note that they’re very expressive, as they look at you with disbelief.

Smiling, you ask, “What’s _your _name?”

“Sans River,” He replies immediately (nervously?), voice helping you mentally categorize his gender.

Your smile softens a little, “Hi, Sans.” His eye lights are darting over your face, so very unlike the disconnected look he had a little while ago. You tell him your name in return, continuing, “If anyone bothers you, even a little, you could come tell me and I’ll make them stop, ‘kay?”

He nods, though you couldn’t tell if he actually would come find you.

Now that the class is empty, you’d feel bad about leaving him and going. “Can I sit here with you?” You try not to sound imposing.

“If you would wish?” He still has a hint of nervousness to his voice. Maybe he’s shy? Or, you think as your smile falters, maybe you scared him?

“It’s okay if you don’t want me around, you know.”

“No, no, it is fine!” He raises his voice as he stands up, “I did not mean to imply that, teacher!”

Aha. Ha-ha. You hate that nickname so much. “Just call me by my name,”

“But I could not do that, teacher. Would that not be rude?” He asks, as he slightly tilts his head to the side.

Ugh, fine, “Do whatever you want.”

You move to sit down next to him, not giving much thought to the fact that he only sat down after you finished adjusting your seat.

Seeing his posture rigid and hard made you laugh though.

“Relax, Sans!” You giggle, patting his back, “You don’t have to be so stiff!”

He (somehow) stiffens more at the contact, which ends your giggles, but then his posture becomes not the tensest posture to ever exist. Still tense as heck, though, but you file it as good enough for now.

Comfortable silence consumes the atmosphere after that, only filled with the rustling of food, stretching until the end of lunch period. You like the peace and quiet here.

When the bell rang you stood up, him standing with you. Smiling softly, you say, “This was honestly nice, Sans. Thanks for letting me eat here with you.”

Cheeks tinting red, he nods tightly.

You offer your hand to shake, “I might come here again tomorrow if you still don’t mind me robbing you of your free time,” you jokingly remark.

“Yes, teacher,” he replies, hesitating before he shakes your hand. Oh, he’s wearing gloves. The only bones showing is his skull, not even his neck is visible with that bandanna.

Aw man, it seems he’s not gonna drop the teacher thing. Oh, well. “See you!” You wave your hand and walk out of there, heading to your class.

On your way, you subconsciously rub the hand he shook, thinking that he looked like a nice kid. And like a pretty kid that you’d maybe want to doodle in class. You laugh quietly as you imagine the awkward kid reacting to you calling him pretty. Since you don’t know him that well, you put a hundred scenarios in your head, and before you know it you’ve reached your class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapters will be and have been beta-read by my friend, Nakkilyn!  
of course, after editing from Han! :D


	2. His side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sans' PoV!! Here at last!!

It has been five years. He knows how humans react to him, and he developed an efficient way to handle them.

A little girl is screaming, tune out her voice.

A man on the street has a disgusted face, erase his expression from mind.

Do not let your guard down and space out, simply filter out what is unnecessary and distracting.

It does not bother him as much anymore.

Oh no, how saddening, on his first day of school everyone started whispering and avoiding him, what a shock. He resists the urge to facepalm at these racist assholes.

_ Tune them out _.

And, from a mere walk down the hall, it is clear that ‘them’ here refers to the entire school, students and teachers alike.

It matters not, in the end. He is here to get a degree that will help him to get a stable income in the future, not to be associated with a gathering of bigoted children, literal and figurative over-grown ones.

_ Especially _over-grown children. A disappointment, really. 

As Sans experienced some more of the world’s examples, and having his respect get crushed all the time, he decided to promise himself three things the first time Sans saw Papyrus’ babybones face: to protect him, to raise him, and to be the best big brother he can be.

But Sans has a little idiot inside his head, an idiot that’s growing smaller and smaller, telling him ‘not everyone is that bad’, that ‘he can respect adults and be comrades with children’, and that ‘he just needs to see it’. The voice has been proven right for the world-breaking-record of _ zero times _. No wonder the idiot is starting to finally shut up.

And so Sans went on his day of school, with nothing out of the norm happening. Or so he thought.

* * *

He decided to have lunch in his classroom since it’s mostly empty, and the others that _ are _in there are somewhat tolerable, at least for now.

He is eating his lunch peacefully, minding his own business, when he hears of the door opening, and a girl who is not from his class enters the room. The girl looks directly at him and moves in his direction. Of course she would. Sans recalls the school map and rules, and he thinks of another suitable place where he would go to next time, very preferably if it is a place where no one comes to, yet still doesn’t break any sort of rule.

When a bigoted child calls out to her, she thankfully stops looking at Sans, and listens to what the child has to say instead, “Hey teacher,” A teacher? For what reason did _ a teacher _ that he never saw before come to this classroom during lunch for? “just ignore it, ‘kay? It didn’t bite anyone yet.” He racistly remarks, making the others surrounding him snicker at that.

The roof is out, the cafeteria is _ definitely _out, the halls… could be considered as a last option, if there was a hall that was rarely visited (He doubts it, but regardless, he will check it later).

“Your name, please.” she commanded, throwing Sans off. Why ask for the clod’s name? What did he do to offend her? Was it because he spoke without being spoken to?

The narrow-minded toddler chuckles cowardly, “Huh?”

“Please give me your name so I can deliver it to the principal.” What? “You know we don’t allow harassment to other students.” The teacher stared the racist down, and Sans can practically feel him shrinking in reaction, the back of Sans’ mind is also alert to the other disappearing children that were with him.

“I didn’t _ harass _it-”

“Your _ name. _“

“It’s not-”

“Do you prefer to waste your lunch period by going to the principal’s now?”

“... Greg.”

She raises her eyebrows in a silent warning.

He averts his eyes and jitteringly blurts, “G-Greg Smith, 2-A.”

She visibly unwinds. “Okay. If you don’t want me to give your name to the principal, please act towards this student with the respect they deserve.”

“... Okay,” He says, then scrambles away with what remains of his companions.

And it finally clicks that this teacher just stood up for him. And now she is looking at him and _what the shit--_ _SHE stood up for HIM?!_

She grins, still staring at him, “What’s _ your _name?”

“Sans River,” Sans immediately replied, probably sounding _ much _more nervous than he intended.

Her smile eases, “Hi, Sans.” Her eyes and voice are steady and calm. She then proceeds to tell him her name in return, continuing, “If anyone bothers you, even a little, you could come tell me and I’ll make them stop, ‘kay?”

She’s talking to him normally! He is searching and failing to find a hidden lie in there, to find the mask shielding disgust or fear, but there is none! And she asked him to come to her when he cries for help? While Sans did not exactly put on a display of retaliation against others, he would not stoop as low as to _depend _on humans. But he nods anyways, since she is still expecting an answer from him.

She glances around, smile dropping the smallest bit, “Can I sit here with you?”

She is asking for his permission? But she is a teacher, is she not? “If you would wish?” He pathetically squeaks, cringing internally at the voice he produced.

“It’s okay if you don’t want me around, you know.”

“No, no, it is fine!” He raises his voice as he stands up, “I did not mean to imply that, teacher!”

She grimaced, making a thousand thoughts rush to his head at once, and says, “Just call me by my name,”

She _ almost _made him do just that, “But I couldn’t do that, teacher. Wouldn’t that be rude?” He asks, as he unconsciously tilts his head to one side.

She softly sighs, “Do whatever you want.”

She moves to sit down -next to him!- and he waits until she is comfortably seated before even daring to sit down himself. Respect habits are hard to break when they kick in, apparently.

And then she burst into laughter. 

“Relax, Sans!” she giggled, _ patting his back _, “You don’t have to be so stiff!”

It took him a considerable amount of effort to ‘relax’, and the- the _ pat _did not help in any way or form.

Afterwards, it was quiet, save for the general muffled sounds from the hall and the noise of their eating.

When the bell rang, she stood up, and he stood with her. Smiling softly again, she says, “This was honestly nice, Sans. Thanks for letting me eat here with you.”

Cheeks tinting red, he nods tightly.

She outstretches her hand towards him, “I might come here again tomorrow if you still don’t mind me robbing you of your free time,” she says, sounding amused?

“Yes, teacher,” he replies, as he hesitatingly decided to shake her hand back. Can she feel the bones under the glove? Could she have been _ somehow _not fully realizing he is a skeleton, and now she would finally be appalled?

But no, she just simply says “See you!” waving and exiting with the promise of return.

The idiot voice inside him laughs in victory very loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sans, meeting teacher: ?!?!?!?!?!!?!??!?!?!!??!?!!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!??!?!????!?!?!??!??!?!??!??!?!
> 
> but?!?!?!?!??!?!?!? what?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??! I?? am??? confusion?!!?!!?


	3. Tiny skeleton.

You're glad that there's enough students in the discipline committee, since that means less duty for you.

Last year was a nightmare.

So school isn't  _ that _ bad, just that it's boring, like usual.

Which is why you're glad the day is over! Plus, now is the last day of the week, so it's a weekend!

Heading home, you remember how the kids whispered about Sans like he's a death god, and that one kid that screamed and cried from horror at the sight of a skeleton monster. That memory dampened your mood significantly.

Because of that one racist girl, the teachers actually considered sending Sans home for the day while they announce to the whole school the situation.

It was only because of you and the two other teachers and the principle that you managed to not do something like that. Instead of sending Sans home on his first day, it was decided that Sans will be treated like a normal student, and the speakers announced loudly, to your satisfaction, "Any monsterphobic student or teacher, please head to the principal's." Bless that principal.

Going back to the present makes you freeze.

There's a tiny skeleton monster on the swings of the playground in the park, looking like they're going to cry any second now.

Looks like you're going home late today.

Approaching the skeleton seems to scare them, as their head snaps in your direction and start shaking very badly. Oh, no.

You stop moving, waiting for their shaking to cease. It doesn't.

Slowly positioning your hand in a non-threatening way, you speak clearly but softly, "Hey, there, little kid."

They start shaking even more.

Back away, back away  _ slowly _ ! Now,  _ softly _ speak. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Are you okay?" Now that you can see them, the kid looks only 4, 5 years max. The clothes around the elbows seem scruffed up, as if they tripped, fell, and hurt themselves.

The child watches your every move fearfully, but the shaking is slowing down.

You repeat, with sincerity clear in your voice, "It's okay. I'm not gonna harm you, kid. It's okay. Are you hurt?" There's no adult, or any other living being in the park, for that matter. "Are you lost? Do you know where your parents or siblings are?"

They stop visibly shaking, and mumble something you can't quite hear.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I didn't catch that. Mind repeating it?"

They mumble again. Okay, so there's no way you could hear that without getting closer.

"Can I get closer? I can't hear you."

The child tightens their hold on the swings, but nod.

Slowly, you try approaching the child, watching carefully for any shaking. But they don't, they just increase the hold on the swings the closer you get. Which worries you, but you'll tackle one issue after the other.

You stop right in front of them, their hold so tight it starts to shake a little. So you slowly crouch, bringing you to eye level with them.

You smile, "Hello. Can you repeat what you said?"

They mumble in a very quiet whisper, " 'm ok."

A small huff of laughter escapes you. "Okay. You're such a strong kid!" He averts his eye lights and fidgets with his feet, a small, almost unnoticeable blush blossoms on his cheekbones. "Do your elbows hurt?"

" 'm ok," he repeats a little more firmly.

Aww! "Nice! What's your name?"

He's quiet for a second, as if he's deciding if you're safe enough, and then a small "papyrus."

The font pattern in skeleton names isn't lost on you.

"Do you know anyone strong, Papyrus?"

"my bro," he perks up a little, the fearful and sad expression fading a little, "he's the coolest and strongest."

Oh no, your heart, it's melting very fast, oh noo.

Resisting the urge to clutch your chest, you say, "He sounds very cool." He smiles and nods. Be still, your shaking heart, "Do you have any idea where he is right now?"

He stops, smile dropping, and doesn't answer.

"Okay then," you whisper to yourself more than him, then talk more clearly, "can I stay here with you and talk?"

You discover that the little skeleton isn't very talkative, except when it comes to drawing, sweets, and his brother, though you couldn't get him to say his brother's name.

From what you got his brother is very cool, very strong, has an awesome sense of fashion, very neat and strict but very nice, keeps Papyrus from making mistakes, and protects Papyrus a lot (from what, he wouldn't say).

You talk for maybe half an hour before a familiar voice yells from a distance, "PAPYRUS!"

… Sans?

Sans is standing at the edge of the park, looking like he ran a marathon, breathing heavily and panting, using his knees as support. Papyrus, on the other hand, looks ecstatic to see Sans. "sans!" He runs in Sans' direction.

Is Sans Papyrus' brother?

Sans catches his breath before he yells again, his volume catching you by surprise, "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS?!"

Sans is still wearing his clothes from school, except it's not neat anymore. It's very obvious how hard he searched for Papyrus.

The smaller skeleton flinches strongly, looking like he's about to cry, making Sans backtrack, "No, I am sorry, Papyrus, it's just.." he sighs heavily, "Why did you do that?" His voice cracks while saying that.

Papyrus shakingly moves and… hugs Sans' leg.

_ Papyrus is so, so adorable?! You're dying. This is it, this is how you die. Death by cuteness. _

Sans' shoulders drop, and the corners of his mouth turn up tiredly.

Then he glances your way and chokes.

His spine snaps straight, shoulders quickly tensing again, "T-TEACHER?!" He practically screams, tripping on his words, stumbling badly, "I- UH- I AM SORRY, HELLO!" You could swear that expression is the embodiment of a blue error screen, "I- UHM?"

He seems to process something quickly, and his eyes widen further, "WERE-" He paused to take a breath, an attempt to calm down and adjust his volume, "Were you with Papyrus?"

"Yeah! Are you his brother? He told me so much about you!" You say, hoping to help further calm him down.

He blushes hard, glaring for a second at Papyrus, then glancing back at you, "Y-yes, I am his older brother."

You mentally face-palm. Of course a comment like that would embarrass him! Your own cheeks gain a faint red hue.

Trying to recover, you say, "You have a very cute brother. And, uh, please check his elbows? He may have fallen."

You didn't even continue your sentence and Sans already unlatched Papyrus from his leg so he can crouch to inspect him better.

He curses in a whisper, rolling Papyrus' hoodie sleeves up above his elbows, carefully minding the injury.

" 's just a scratch, sans, it doesn't hurt," Papyrus says, a little annoyed?

"Shut up," Sans mumbles distractedly, "I do not want you to scar, let me heal you…" he trails off.

Papyrus scoffs "it's not gonna scar, it's so tiny," He whines, "i wanna go home."

Sans then glances at you again, (is he sweating?), and stands up straight again. "Thank you for looking after my brother while I was away, teacher." He nudges Papyrus lightly, pointedly glancing your way.

Papyrus turns to face you as well, clutching Sans' jeans, "thank you, teach'" he says shyly, quickly burying his face in Sans.

You can't. You just can't. You coo loudly, "Aww, sweetie! Your welcome!" You didn't even think of the teacher nickname, it's just… ! Papyrus is so cute! Clutching your chest, your eyes plead Sans while you ask him, "Can I hug your sweetheart of a brother? Please? He's so cute, I might die."

Sans sputters while Papyrus tilts his head up, looking at his brother. "can i hug her, too? she's nice," he comments, further killing you.

Sans' gaze darts between his brother and you, both of you increasing your pleading with every second.

"If you wish," He says, his voice full of incredulity.

Papyrus beams and runs back to you.

And he opens his arms.

And you finally die.

You squeeze the little skeleton sweetheart, and it feels  _ right _ . This is where he belongs, he's not returning to his brother, bye, Sans, it was nice meeting you.

Papyrus, the precious bean, doesn't let go for a long minute, and only releases when Sans clears his throat.

Sans is in what looks like disbelief, to say the least. After Papyrus lets go and returns to his brother, Sans picks him up, and addresses you, "Again, thank you, teacher, for taking care of my brother." He bows his head a little, making you flush.

"No, no, it's fine! I… have to go now, but thank you!" You wave, "bye!"

Papyrus waves back while Sans bows his head, cheeks reddening again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow i just noticed all the blushing lmaooo
> 
> edit: HOLY CRAP i CANNOT BELIEVE i forgot to mention I GOT FRICKING FANART! AT CHAPETR _ONE!!!!_  
CHECK IT OUT [HERE!!!!!!!](https://han-doodles.tumblr.com/post/187013724698/sketches-of-the-blushy-and-adorbs-teenblack-from) SHOUTOUT TO MY AMAZING SISTER HAN THAT DREW IT


	4. Chase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay ;7;
> 
> The story was on an unannounced hiatus, and the reason was school o(-(  
And now I'll announce it: I'll only post chapters in summer vacation. ((this chapter is an exception))  
But! I'll have you know that I was in this fandom for 4 strong years. I'm not abandoning my fics!!
> 
> MEANWHILE, I've had some stories baking for a while now, hohoho ;D and while my hands are itching to write them I'm gonna finish the ones I'm already writing first xD
> 
> Enjoy reading!!!! :D

Thinking that your school wasn’t that bad was a mistake. It was a sad, sad mistake.  
  
But really, it should be obvious— the teachers are most strict when the parent-teacher conference is near.  
  
Half of the committee dropped out, and the other half is slacking, except for you. Which is a mystery; why are you still here?  
  
And this week? Calling it busy would be an understatement.  
  
Fights, bullying, escaping classes, drugs, smoking on school grounds... common high school misbehavior, hardly rare, but _still_.  
  
It's _exhausting_ to try and control mischievous teenagers. Why did you join this committee again? More importantly, why didn't you drop out like the rest??  
  
Alas, you’ve got duties to fulfill, and hallways to patrol—  
  
“KICK HIS ASS!!”  
  
-and students to keep in check, because apparently they’re demonic infants who refuse to abide by the sensible rules.  
  
Goddammit.  
  
A teacher visibly scrunches his face up in distaste, and looks at you expectantly.  
  
Sighing, you turn the corner and see two trouble students fighting each other with _an audience_ cheering them on. Normally you’d have to put on your Authority Face, but you think your current default, I’m-Done-With-Your-Shit Face is close enough, since everyone pauses for a bit.  
  
“Greg—" You start, only to be interrupted by-  
  
“Greg!” The teacher steps in.  
  
_If the teacher was gonna step in anyways, why did he make you enter the scene in the first place?_ You feel like screaming.  
  
Huffing, you end up continuing your patrol in silence instead.  
  
Nothing in this hallway, a runaway student in that hallway. One mention of the teacher’s name was enough, since you now have a reputation of not messing around. Next, going to the floor above, the floor for second years...  
  
... And you find Sans! You smile, and call out, “Hi, Sans! ”  
  
He briefly glances at you, continues his walk, only to do a double take and almost trip on his feet.  
  
“_ERR_-” He glances to side, then back at you again, walks over and start nervously, “Hello, teacher—”  
  
Shouts from the floor below erupts, "—GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT, YOUNG MAN—!“ “—FUCK YOU—!!" Followed by more shouts.  
  
You sigh, and mutter, “An idiot.”  
  
“Understatement,” Sans replies, a little irked.  
  
Groaning, you complain, “It’s been such a crap week, Sans.”  
  
“I noticed,” he looks back at you, “It was not as bad last week.”  
  
“I knooow! It’s just getting worse. Worse than last year, even, and last year was already a _disaster_.” Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it _was _a tiring year. Blegh.  
  
Nevermind that, you’ve got catching up to do! “More importantly...”  
  
The sound of footsteps dashing, _speeding towards your direction— _  
  
Greg shoves Sans into you roughly as he runs past, screaming, “_MOVE IT, BITCH_!”  
  
“_Hey_!!” You shout angrily after him, hands holding Sans by the shoulders, whose eye sockets are eerily void of its usual eyelights.  
  
The teacher who’s still running up the stairs yells, “Catch him!”  
  
_I’m too tired for this drama_, the thought kept bouncing in your head even though you start to chase anyways—  
  
Sans runs past you in a blur, chasing the two meter long idiot.  
  
He looks _furious._  
  
And oh my god, he’s _fast!_  
  
You know, you _know _Sans is gonna catch him in no time. And now? You stop running, all you can do is watch, stunned and slightly amused.  
  
Sans is _in front of_ Greg, seething, and Greg squeaks like a pathetic mouse being stepped on. Sans gives Greg one shove that sends him on his ass, then he grabs him by the back of his shirt, and drags Greg back at your feet.  
  
You have to hold back a giggle— The look on Greg’s face is _hilarious_.  
  
The teacher finally catches up, and yells, “What’s going on here?!” His glare shifts between Sans and Greg -who’s still on the floor- and Greg seized the opportunity, “It attacked me!” He cries out, fear dying and anger filling his expression.  
  
Sans gasps, “I did not! _You _pushed_ me_ and I _captured _you, like I am _supposed to_!”  
  
“It shoved me into the floor and dragged me all the way!” Greg proceeded to ignore Sans.  
  
“River!” The teacher shouts, “You’re supposed to represent your kind! Even if what you’re saying is true, you’re supposed to hold back. What kind of image are you trying to emulate with this behavior? You’re just showing further proof of how violent ‘monsters’ are! And you—”  
  
“Um,” you cut across the teacher sharply, “Actually, he wasn’t very violent, the students here do much more when they fight. It doesn’t mean anything.” God, the teacher is racist. “Also, Sans was shoved first, and _you_ told us to catch Greg. Frankly, I would have done the same as him if I could.” You shoot a small glare at Greg on that last bit.  
  
“Wh— I—” The teacher sputters, and redirects his fuel, “_You_!” he grabs Greg by the upper arm, pulling him up, “Get up, you rascal! You’ve caused a lot of trouble for me, I’ll make sure you don't repeat it again, you're coming with me now.”  
  
“No! I was attacked by a monster!” He shouts, but it sounds like a child whining. Eventually, their voices fade as the teacher drags Greg away.  
  
You’re left standing there in the hall, left with nothing to do.  
  
Awkward.  
  
“Ahah,” you laugh, not really knowing what to say, “So, you wanna sit down, or... ?”  
  
“No, I—” He points to his classroom, “I have to continue my lesson, now.”  
  
“Oh! Yeah, you should probably go. See you at lunch?”  
  
He nods, and goes on his way.  
  
You continue your patrol...  
  
Wait, why was he out of class in the first place?... Do skeletons need the bathroom?  
  
Huh. Food for thought.  
  


* * *

It’s lunch break.  
  
You hunt your skeletal friend, and find him in his empty classroom, eating his lunch. When you enter the door, he pauses mid-bite.  
  
“Hi, Sans,” you greet.  
  
“Teacher,” He nods.  
  
“What were you doing out of the classroom back then?” You laugh, “Were you running away?” you say half jokingly.  
  
He looked mildly offended, “Why would I?” He huffs, “I was bringing the teacher his whiteboard marker.”  
  
“Oh! Okay, yeah, makes sense.” You sit down next to him, “By the way, how’s Papyrus?”  
  
“He is doing fine,” His cheeks slowly gains a red blush, “He, uh, says that he misses you... ”  
  
Your heart warms up, and you smile wide, “Really? Aww! I miss him too!”  
  
And that’s how you two ended up talking about Papyrus for the entirety of lunch break.

* * *

A week passed by, and you keep catching Sans ‘running errands’ for the teacher. Once or twice, eh, it’s normal. Three? Four? Something is up. And it’s not as if Sans was there since the beginning of the year. Plus, he’s not the closest one to the door.  
  
_“The teacher wanted a blue pen from his office.”_  
  
_“He wants me to give these papers out to the other classes.”_  
  
_“The teacher wants a red whiteboard marker.”_  
  
Once, you caught it happening. The teacher had the eraser on the table, and he outed Sans to go and bring the whiteboard eraser from the floor _below_.  
  
You’re not dumb. Neither is Sans.  
  
The teacher doesn’t like Sans, for one reason or another. What he’s been doing is getting Sans out of the class, out of his face.  
  
Every time.  
  
But you have no proof, so you can’t rat the teacher out. But you can't leave things like it is. So now you’re contemplating something; breaking a rule.  
  
After all, all the other remaining students in the committee are doing it. Why can’t you?  
  
The next time you saw Sans out of his classroom, you went up to him, greeted him, and asked, “Can you give me your schedule?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe
> 
> you didn't forget how prideful sf sans is, did you? xD

**Author's Note:**

> precious beans! :D
> 
> Only updates when the author is on her vacation o(-(
> 
> Temporary Hiatus.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Feeling Bonely](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23860036) by [alupinia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alupinia/pseuds/alupinia)


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